The Divorce Club Read Online Free PDF

Sam gets home from school my
head's throbbing. It's past nine when I can finally get to bed. The
phone rings as soon as I've switched off the lamp.
    "What?" I press the receiver against my ear,
forgetting that I'm supposed to run a 24/7 hotline.
    "I wanted to tell him tonight but I couldn't.
Instead, we had sex."
    "Who's there?" I ask, straining to sit
up.
    A short pause, then, "Oh, sorry, it's
Simone."
    Simone, the redhead—I remember her, but I've
no idea what she's talking about. "Okay, slow down. Just tell me
what happened." Of course I wish she'd just say it's not important
and hang up so I can get back to sleep, but I can see I've no such
luck.
    "We had a fight because I couldn't take him
pretending everything's fine," Simone says. "One word led to
another, and then we made up. It wasn't even bad. I'm so
confused."
    "Stay away from him, keep your distance." I
try to make sense of her words through the splitting headache.
"Letting him get under your skin now's just going to cloud your
judgment."
    "I know that. I wish I knew why I let it
happen."
    It's called being horny, but it's not my job
to tell her that. "Don't blame yourself. It happens to the best of
us. Why don't we discuss it at tomorrow's meeting?"
    "But I don't get it. Apart from putting on
weight, I did everything you advised. He said he knows I'm only
nagging because I'm so stressed out and then he went on to give me
a massage. I thought I didn't even fancy him any more," Simone
continues as though she didn't hear me.
    I hug my pillow to my chest, imagining myself
sinking into it and getting some much needed sleep after hours of
fighting to make sense of some numbers. "You probably don't now , Simone, but you did in the past. It's only
understandable those memories will come back to haunt you. It
doesn't mean a thing. Now, if we could just—"
    "But I enjoyed myself." She says the
word as though it's evil.
    "Your body has urges that need to be taken
care of every now and then."
    "With him?" Simone shouts. "That's just
wrong."
    I'd like to point out that there's nothing
wrong with enjoying a romp with the hubby. Simone's attitude toward
her partner strikes me as odd, so I make a mental note to mention
that tomorrow—if she doesn't keep me up all night and I don't end
up too exhausted to even remember my name. "Just look at it as a
one-night stand. Men do it all the time, so why not women?"
    "Have you ever had one?" Simone's question
takes me by surprise.
    "Of course not," I say, realizing how
defensive I sound. "But I know a lot of people who did."
    "Oh."
    "Wait, I did once," I hurry to add. "When my
ex and I separated I relapsed, just like you." That's a lie. I
would've never let Greg back into my bed. Even the thought makes me
want to throw up, but if it helps Simone, then the sudden nausea in
the pit of my stomach's worth it.
    "You didn't fancy him any more either?"
Simone asks.
    "Not one bit." This isn't a lie. I had to
force myself to even discuss the shopping list with him.
    Simone laughs. "Wow. You've made me feel so
much better. See you tomorrow, then?"
    "Looking forward to it." Fake enthusiasm
drips from my voice, but Simone's already hung up.
    I snuggle under the duvet, ready to sink into
dreamland, when the phone beeps again. This time it's a text
message. Honestly, that 24/7 helpline wasn't my brightest idea. Mel
assured me no one would ever be that desperate to call, but I've
had my fair share of desperation in the last thirty-six hours.
    Groaning, I retrieve the phone, knocking over
my tube of hand cream in the process, and open the message.
    Hey gorgeous. Been thinking of u. U wearing
that black little number?
    How does he know what I'm wearing? Unless
he's been watching me…A cold shudder runs down my spine as I peer
at the unknown number. What's worse than a creep? An anonymous one.
Any trace of sleep gone, I jump out of the bed and dash for the
window to check the curtains are indeed drawn. Then I realize the
wacko could be leering over an